What a bargain this compilation is! EMI are offering this
generously-filled, two-disc set for the price of a single CD and it includes
the first appearance on CD, seventeen years after its release on LP in
1982, of Haitinks thought-provoking recording of Waltons First
Symphony; the original issue of this recording even reproduced a note
of thanks from the composer himself on the back of the sleeve.

There have been many exciting versions of the First Symphony,
but Simon Rattles 1990 EMI recording (CDC 556 5922) has set such
high standards of orchestral precision that no previous recording can
now emerge unscathed from detailed comparison with it: even Bryden Thomsons
high-voltage recording (made earlier in the same year for Chandos with
the London Philharmonic Orchestra) betrays inadequate attention to orchestral
balance next to the care over detail shown in Rattles version, the
latter now a clear first choice if you want only one recording of this
masterpiece in your collection. The significance of Haitinks version
is that it sheds new light on the symphony, rendering comparisons with
other recordings irrelevant. Even if you have the Rattle version, Haitinks
is so innovative that it is worth investing in for the new insights it
will give you into the work.

EMI have served this symphony well over the years, ever
since recording Waltons own interpretation with the Philharmonia
in 1951 (it is to be hoped that eventually they will reissue their compelling
1988 recording by Vernon Handley and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra,
vastly superior to Handleys previous version, now on ASV) but they
struck gold when they engaged Haitink to commit his adventurous view of
the work to disc. His concentration ensures that his performance of the
first movement is commanding whilst avoiding the cliche of reducing it
to a series of climaxes: his reading has a dark, threatening character
even in the passages where some conductors allow the music to relax. There
is an implacable sense of momentum, achieved by the combination of a slow
tempo and the massive weight of sound produced by the Philharmonia: listen
to the breadth of sonority which the brass achieve at 1451
with only bassoons to support them. The ending of the movement is intimidating
in its force, suggesting a triumph of vengeance. The presto may be less
superficially exciting than Previns famous RCA recording, but Haitinks
steadier tempo allows us to hear details of the orchestration more clearly.
The extremely-slow account of the andante is sustained magnificently,
a few ignored dynamic markings in the score an insignificant price to
pay when their exclusion enables Haitink to present such a personalised
performance, with every note carrying emotional weight. The tension in
the finale is graded carefully, judiciously understated at some points
so that the final climax at 1235 is of shattering impact.
The (relatively-early) digital recording is of demonstration quality,
even by todays standards, the heavy bass lines of Waltons
orchestration heard with striking definition, with a resonant ambience
conveying a sense of space without compromising clarity: a superb piece
of sound engineering by Christopher Parker at Abbey Road Studios.

Previns accounts of the two overtures and the Second
Symphony originally appeared together on LP in 1974, coupled with Constant
Lamberts Rio Grande. These recordings of the overtures are the same
ones as those already available on CD, coupled with Previns performance
of Belshazzars Feast. These boisterous performances still sound
well. The recording of the Second Symphony has been deleted for years
(it was once available on CD coupled with Malcolm Sargents worthy
but now surpassed recording of the First Symphony) and was only the second
version of the work to be released, its predecessor being George Szells
very fine LP for CBS, issued in 1962. Previns account has not been
equalled since. His performance captures the volatile nature of this rewarding
score, which can erupt into violence then return to sensitive textures
within a few seconds. Previn does not shy away from the underlying fierceness
of much of the music: this is a dynamic performance with a welcome abrasive
edge to the sonority where required. Nevertheless, the most memorable
achievement of this recording is the beauty of sound which Previn creates
with Waltons scoring: the addition of two harps, piano, celeste,
glockenspiel, xylophone and vibraphone to orchestral resources which (even
without these instruments) are already larger than the First Symphony,
is demonstrated here to be far more than an experiment in novel timbre,
because Previn blends their tonal colours into the texture with such refinement
that even the most sceptical listener will be persuaded that the essential
substance of the music demands their inclusion. Previn and the LSO present
here a strong case for regarding the central lento assai as one of the
greatest slow movements in British music.

Torteliers 1973 recording of the Cello Concerto
was originally coupled on LP with Shostakovichs First Cello Concerto,
whilst Haendels 1977 version of the Violin Concerto appeared on
LP with Brittens Violin Concerto and is already available on CD
with the same coupling. Torteliers individual style of playing is
always instantly recognisable and it is a pleasure to hear him tackling
Waltons idiom with such flair; Haendels performance may have
less individuality than Menuhins 1969 EMI recording with the composer
conducting, but she is more comfortably in control of the alarming technical
stunts which Walton crammed into the score, especially in the presto capriccioso,
to please its dedicatee, Jascha Heifetz. Both of these fine performances
add to the attractions of this set, but for me, it is primarily the long-awaited
return to the catalogue of Haitinks revelatory account of the First
Symphony and Previns classic account of the Second Symphony which
makes this release from EMI such an important event.

And now for something completely different from David Wright

The curiosity of this double CD album is Haitink's account
of the Symphony No 1. The Gramophone hailed it as 'a revolutionary
reading that no Waltonian should miss'. The orchestral playing is very
good, although the balance and other recording features are occasionally
suspect, the performance is a very personal one.

There is no doubt that Haitink is one of our finest
musicians and conductors, a highly gifted man and one of genuine sincerity
and integrity. His Mozart recordings are superlative and I remember his
stirring account of Shostakovitch's Symphony No 10 which he conducted
at the Proms a few years ago. In a more recent Proms concert Rostropovitch
conducted the same work and added ten minutes to its length and, quite
frankly, it was tedious. But now, the boot is on the other foot. Haitink
takes 51 minutes on the Walton whereas, for example, Bryden Thomson on
Chandos takes 44' 42" and, to my mind, his is the finest account of the
work with Vernon Handley coming in second.

The first movement of Haitink's reading is too slow,
particularly in the section figure 19 to 24
in the score, the passage which begins with a bassoon solo. It drags.
The jagged string writing is not realised by Haitink until the final pages
and therefore the music's agitation is lost. The reduced speed puts a
strain on the oboist's famous tune but suits the strings when they have
it (figure 18). Sometimes the brass is too heavy and obscures
other orchestral detail. Just before the end the tuba part is somewhat
crude being too prominent and having the gait of plodding obesity.

In this performance both the continuity and the momentum
are regularly lost. In addition, the music becomes solid and mechanised
and occasionally hints at Elgarian nobilementes and, despite Lady Susanna
Walton's rejoinder and the claims of Michael Kennedy, Sir William hated
the suggestion that he was Elgar's successor. And, at the risk of the
cudgels being taken up against me again, Walton did not like Elgar's music.

The second movement Presto con malzia is only
slightly slower than most performances. Haitink brilliantly avoids the
pitfall of observing the 3/4 time signature and plays it as one in the
bar. The first timpani entry is murky and lacks clarity. The section of
repose (figure 52ff.) needs a greater 'drawing out' of
detail to maintain interest. In the noisy sections the brass overwhelms
other detail. However, the horn trills are very exciting. But, what is
worrying is the brass interruptions in this movement which are exaggerated
so that they sound like accidents, as if someone has dropped a load of
old iron, making these entries mere caricatures. And the conclusion of
the movement is crude rather than convincing.

The slow movement is, at times, bordering on the tortuous.
Haitink is three minutes longer than Thomson. The opening flute observes
unwritten, and therefore unauthorised, rests (bar 8) as does the clarinet
(bar 26). In addition, both cut their minims not giving them the full
two beats. The timpani at figure 89 is certainly not pppp
as stated in the score. There is a moment of gloriously-captured sinisterism
just before figure 92 and some exquisite string playing
follows. But this movement is on two halves, the second being maestoso
and declamatory and is full of exaggerated and somewhat empty gestures
and this performance confirms that. Thomson's better-judged tempi does
not show the music to such a disadvantage.

Along with others, I do not think the finale works.
In this performance the opening maestoso is rather feeble and the
brioso section lacks drive and an unveiling of the inherent rhythmic
interest. At figure 112, the fugato takes the music
into the realm of predictability and at 117 the performance
breaks down and yet Walton does not indicate a slackening of the tempo.
The vivacissimo section simply isn't. There is no real life or
bounce and, as a result, the music often sounds banal or like a series
of jingles. The same problems of the previous movements exist and, while
accepting that this is a very difficult movement to pull off, Haitink's
laboured performance simply does not work. At figure 139
the strings are marked ff molto marcato but they are not. The splendid
conclusion is lacking in sparkle.

Haitink simply does not understand Walton or this incredible
score. But he is not the only miscreant. Rattle's performance is even
worse and, quite frankly, a shocking misrepresentation of Walton's genius.

For those who like musical mysteries, you might like
to compare some of the themes of the Walton with those in Constant Lambert's
Rio Grande and draw your own conclusions.

The next item, the Cello Concerto of 1956, as
also the Symphony No 2, shows the influence of Walton's only teacher,
Humphrey Searle. Now this influence was not in serialism but in a clarity
and economy of style. It is extraordinary that both books on Walton by
Michael Kennedy and the composer's widow both omit that vital fact of
Walton's extensive studies with Searle. Walton went to Searle for about
two years after the Second World War.

Both the Cello Concerto and Symphony No 2
are translucent and far better structured than the Symphony No 1.
The former overwhelming and exhausting power is now replaced by a lack
of recklessness and enviable control.

The Cello Concerto is a gem, an extremely good
piece. When I consider the adulation given to the Elgar and compare it
with this masterpiece I am lost for words. Bax, Bliss and Finzi wrote
fine Cello Concertos but the Walton is probably the greatest.

In this performance, Paul Tortelier's tone is quite
ravishing and Paavo Berglund understands the score. The new-found-Walton-clarity
serves this piece well and it is a beautiful reading and no more needs
to be said.

The Violin Concerto of 1939 has one of those
unforgettable and haunting melodies and Ida Haendelis the exemplary soloist.
It is lovely, warm, soul-satisfying music and, again, both soloist and
the excellent Paavo Berglund give convincing performances. The fast section
in the opening allegro tranquillo is a marvellous tour de force
and throughout the Berglund performance the orchestral balance and detail
is perfection and the sheer exuberance and excitement missing from Haitink's
performance is here. This is how Walton is to be played.

The Neapolitan presto is played with real effervescence
and the final vivace has a verve about it. It is such a pity that
composers introduce long slow sections in quick movements ... Elgar did
it in both his concertos ... and Walton does it here. In his case, however,
the music is of such quality that it works and what a splendid tone Ida
Haendelhas.

The Symphony No 2 was premiered at the Edinburgh
Festival in 1960 and received hostile criticism. It is a better work than
the Symphony No 1 largely because of its exceptional clarity and
it is much more original. Fortunately, it lacks the overwhelming power
of the earlier work and yet it has a power and conviction all of its own.
It has a maturity and a tension that evolves naturally from the thematic
content and André Previn is a fine advocate of this rather special
work.

The same conductor gives us two overtures, Portsmouth
Point and Scapino in performances of gusto but I wonder if
these pieces are of any great purport. They are colourful and enjoyable
pieces but are not profound.

The recordings on this double CD date from 1972 to 1981
and were digitally remastered in 1999 for this compilation. Sympnony No
1 was an original DDD recording.

I heartily recommend the performances except the Symphony
No 1 which is a failure.